I’m going comfortably numb again.
Speaking, without being heard.
Loving, and being alone.
Hurting, without relief.
Or, numb.
Numb, my choice at the moment.
No dreams that won’t come true.
No feelings that will
overwhelm
and
break
my
heart
again.
No need to acknowledge,
Again
The bitter truth.
Or to taste it
When the salty tears
and snot
run down my face.
Numb,
much better,
Much safer
For tonight.
How do we measure our strength? I don’t mean the ability to bench press 500 lbs.
I mean emotional strength. Is strength the ability not to cry when you are in pain? Or is it the willingness to say I hurt, I hurt so much I think I might die, but I’m not going to stop feeling, or loving, or become something ugly.
Is strength the willingness to hide who you are and all your feelings behind a wall? Or is it the willingness to take the wall down, brick by brick, so you can travel past it, even with no reassurance what is on the other side?
Isn’t vulnerability an incredible strength? Doesn’t a willingness to put yourself out there, fully, not knowing the outcome, demonstrate strength?
During my divorce trial, my ex’s attorney approached me on the witness stand where I spend a full day and a half, and said, “You’re making your ex look pretty bad here.” I said, “Look, I just want it all out on the table, for once…and what happens from that is what happens.” (He didn’t need any help from me to look bad….)
But yeah, I was willing to just tell it like it was, not knowing the outcome. I was sick of secrets, sick of hiding things, sick of having to stuff the emotions that he engendered from me, stuffing them out of fear of his temper. I was willing to be vulnerable, vulnerable enough to let the truth out.
With S, I was the first and only one of us to say “I love you.” I think that makes me strong. I want the truth out on the table. What is protected by hiding the way you feel? And when it falls apart, as it seems to be, I know I gave it my all, I know that I laid it out on the table, I know I held back nothing. (I want it to be clear here, that S never misled me. He is an honorable and decent man. The truth was always on the table with him.)
As I work through the emotions, that so far have alternated between sheer anguish and pervasive numbness, I know I am strong. I was willing to say it, not knowing the outcome. I am strong enough to sit with my emotions, and work through them. To learn whatever lessons are here to be learned, and most importantly, to continue to love him, unconditionally.
Because love, love….is what we are here for. It is what life is all about. I am so grateful that I can feel so deeply, can be so passionate, can hurt so much because it means I can love so much. I’d do it again, I will do it again.
Unless, of course, I find someone who is more willing than me, and beats me to it.
God, I can’t stop writing. The words are like a volcano, spilling out of me, running down my face, over my heart, like smoke coming out of my ears and every part of my being. I need to get it into the universe and let the higher powers deal with it. I SO don’t believe he hasn’t seen her. I am SO sure that was a bold faced lie.
He texted me early Saturday morning, and NOT for the rest of the day. I texted him, no answer. No response. Because he was not alone. I know his habits, I know how he works. I went out Saturday evening. I realized by then that I needed to not talk to him, period, so I had him blocked, but he didn’t try to reach me. Because he was busy.
Sunday morning, I got a brief text from him. I sent him 3 more, one of which he got because he talked about it today, but never responded to Sunday. But he told me he didn’t get anything else after he texted me. When I said, well you got the one about the snake….he backtracked, well I got it but didn’t think it needed a response.
Oh no, I texted you freaked out and didn’t need a response. You didn’t respond because you were busy. With someone else. Probably out to breakfast with her, where we used to go and where you went with her before. Showing everyone there because the waitresses all know him, that she was back.
Except….she couldn’t do for him what I could. Not gonna get into it, just that I am guessing she couldn’t do that. They probably tried more than once. So….he back tracked and they decided not to get back together because it just wasn’t working or gonna work….and he knew in his own demented mind that if he was with her, and I knew it, I’d never be with him again.
Now…I might not. But the best, very best chance he had was to tell me the truth. And to apologize for all the hurt he dished out and made me sit through. To come squeaky clean and take whatever the consequences were. I smell a lie, I smell it like a dead fish, when someone is circumventing questions, trying to distract you from your intended purpose. My ex was a champ at it And I learned not to believe anything he said. I KNOW that what i heard in that phone call was NOT the truth. “I don’t know, it never occurred to me…” Bullshit. “I only talked to her” Then why couldn’t you talk to me too. Why no word from you for 3 days? “Because I didn’t want to deal with your anger.” Well….I wasn’t angry yesterday morning, when he sent me that short text. It was obvious to me that he snuck off, or she was in the bathroom or something and that’s all he had time for. It was obvious that a decision had been made about her when he first contacted me today.
He says, “I was thinking of driving up there today.” WHA?? No, I don’t want you up here. I suppose he thought I was so into him, that I’d be thrilled and put all the bs he dished out to me away, never to be spoken of again.
Guaranteed that she knows nothing about me. Guaranteed.
So, I’m sorry, I’m ranting. I just have to get this out of me. Even if my version is incorrect, technically, I know it wasn’t the truth. The truth rings, all the pieces fit together. The truth is not a a bunch of disjointed, disconnected statements that have little or no bearing to the actual recorded events. I just want the truth, I want the whole truth, I want it spoken so I have not one unanswered question. I deserve that. It’s what I give. I want it back. A hundred times I have said I would take a brutal truth over a pretty lie any day. And anyway, there are no pretty lies. They are just ugly, manipulative, spoken by creeps without conscience, and they lead to destruction. Every. Single. Time.
This was just more bullshit.
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